Rounds
by Verdreht
Summary: The team goes for drinks to celebrate Connor getting his job back, and Matt learns a lot of things: Jess can't hold her liquor, Becker can, and if he wants to get to know the people he's working with, the best way to do it is to ply them with alcohol. Coda to episode 4x02. Part 2 of Matt/Becker AU Verse. Can be read as Pre-slash or budding bromance.


Matt had been home only an hour or two when he got Jess's call. They were having a get-together at the pub, to celebrate Connor's newly-reinstated status as the ARC's most unusual field operative, and it was apparently a full-team-invited sort of affair.

He thought about declining. He'd just sat down with a hot cuppa and one of the countless classics lining his shelves he'd yet to crack open, and he was looking forward to a nice night in, just him and his plants. Besides, he wasn't supposed to get attached to these people; he could practically feel his father's disapproving stare over top of his glasses at the thought.

Just before he opened his mouth to beg off, though, he had a change of heart. It wasn't as if Charles Dickens was going anywhere, after all, and anyway, it could be a good way to get a feel for Connor and Abby, see them outside the ARC. That went for all of them, really. Jess and Becker too. And really, it'd been too long since he'd done something just for the hell of it.

So, instead, he got the name of the place and when they'd be meeting from Jess, told her he was on his way, and after he'd hung up, he tugged on some jeans and a button-up and made for the pub.

He wasn't really sure what to expect of the place. It wasn't one he'd ever been to, and if it was just about any one of the others doing the suggesting, he wasn't sure their tastes would align.

Actually, though, he was pleasantly surprised. No bass pounding so loud he could hear it from the street when he parked, no strobe lights or the like. It was cosy. Warm lighting, a live band playing just this side of loudly, and an amicable chatter filling the air.

"Oh, Matt, over here!"

Matt looked over from his spot by the door to see Jess waving him over from a booth near the corner opposite the band. He did a quick role call in his head as he walked over to join them. There was Jess, of course, and beside her on the end was Becker, no longer in standard black uniform. Across from them, even from the backs of their heads only, it wasn't hard to pick out the pale blonde of Abby, and the shaggy dark mane that belonged to Connor. The gang was all there, then.

"Glad you could make it!" Jess said when he made it over.

Becker's greeting was decidedly more blunt. "You're late."

He shrugged. "Caught every red light." And maybe it was just his imagination, but he could've sworn he saw the flicker of a smile, maybe even a chuckle, before a waitress butted in. Matt decided to spare himself her little welcome spiel and busied himself pulling over a chair to sit in.

Then something she said piqued his interest. "Oh, it's you," she said. For a moment, Matt wasn't sure whom she was talking to. But clearly, her eyes were on Becker. "I almost didn't recognize you; you're not in your usual spot."

Matt made an effort to keep his face schooled, but he did file the information away. So, Becker was a regular there. Interesting. Not really what he would've imagined him doing in his off time. But then, he guessed shooting ranges had to have closing times, too, and even Becker couldn't stay at the ARC all night, all the time. Although sometimes it seemed like he did.

"The usual?" asked the perky thirty-something with dyed red hair and a top at least one size too small.

And he had a usual.

Becker shook his head, and then held up a hand. "Five pints. Fuller's ESB."

And clearly thought it best that he order for the lot of them. Although, none of the others seemed to mind. Jess probably wouldn't have minded if he'd ordered them shots or swill, but he thought Abby would've said something if she had a problem with it.

Actually, she did say something. But she leaned over to say it, and it ended up being more an explanation: "Last one here buys the first round, buyer picks the brew. But we mostly just ordered what Becker did; he knows what's good."

"You three do this thing a lot?"

A look crossed Abby's face, and Matt kicked himself, but then she smiled. "We used to." Then she leaned back, just in time for Perky to click her pen and trot away.

"So," Connor was saying, "you kept coming here while we were, you know." He didn't make any attempts to clarify. But then, he didn't need to.

Becker shrugged. "I like it."

Matt might not have known Becker as well as he might've liked, but he knew him well enough to know a brush-off when he saw it. A parry. Not something he wanted to talk about, then. Matt was kind of curious, though. Maybe it was just him, but he couldn't imagine Becker would want to come to a place he had done with people he'd lost.

Unless he was punishing himself, he thought. Which wasn't a very pleasant idea to entertain, but in a way, it sort of fit Becker's character. He blamed himself; that much was obvious. Coming here, reminding himself of everything he'd lost – with a steady supply of alcohol readily at hand, no less – seemed like a perfectly self-destructive way to spend the night. Poor bastard. And to think, Matt had never known.

Matt tried reasoning it away. Professional as Becker was, there was no way he would show up at work in anything other than top form. Or, at least, no way he would let anyone at work think he was anything other than top form. It wasn't as if he went on about his evenings and weekends.

Still, Matt couldn't help thinking he should have noticed something. Sort of made him wonder what else he'd missed, and that wasn't a comforting prospect for someone in his position.

"Here you are."

Matt looked up to see Perky again, balancing a tray of pints that Becker was quick to take off her hands. And a bloody gentleman too. Did he have a knighthood he'd failed to mention, or had he been too humble to accept?

He shook his head and reached to help Becker pass out the beers. As he did, he couldn't help noticing Perky was still around, smiling brightly. She seemed to be making eyes at Becker, not that he paid her any mind beyond a polite nod and a quiet "thanks" that eventually saw her off. And all Matt could think was 'poor Jess,' because anyone with eyes could see she had a thing for the captain.

Unfortunately, in all things deeply interpersonal, it seemed their head of security was blind.

"Nice of her to bring them by," Connor said, innocently impressed. "Don't remember them doing that last time we were here."

Another shrug from Becker. "Sometimes they do, sometimes they don't." And that seemed to be all he cared to weigh in on the matter.

In the interest of avoiding an awkward silence, Matt took the little lull in the conversation to lift his glass. Imagine his surprise when, for once since this whole thing started, the others followed his lead. "So that's the secret," he said lightly. "You're all much more agreeable with a pint in your hands. I'll remember that." And after a round of chuckles, smirks, and "don't count on it"s, he cleared his throat. "Connor. Abby. Normally, this'd be the time for a brilliant speech welcoming you back to the present and congratulating the both of you on reclaiming your places on the team. But since I don't really have anything prepared, and these pints won't drink themselves, let me just say I'm glad the two of you found your way back here, and it's an honour to get the chance to work beside you."

As he spoke, he watched the faces at the table. Jess was all smiles, as if she'd known the two all her life and was happy to be reunited. Abby and Connor were smiling, too, but theirs were more for each other than for Matt or anyone else; they'd gotten each other through whatever hell they'd been living in just the other side of that anomaly. And Becker...well, Becker was hard to peg as always. He looked happy. Lighter, somehow, than he had since Matt had known him. But there was regret there, too. No doubt thinking of the people that weren't there sharing drinks with them. Danny Quinn. Sarah Page. For once, though, it seemed the good beat out the bad. It was slighter than the others, less obvious, but Matt could see that he was smiling too.

Matt made five. "Cheers."

"Cheers," everyone echoed, clinking their glasses together and taking the first drinks of the night.

As it turned out, they were the first of many. Matt got the second round. Jess, the third, even though she was already a bit pissed. By four, she was three sheets to the wind, half-laying on Becker and giggling at everything like it'd just told a joke. Abby bought that round. Connor volunteered to get the fifth, but by then, it was passing midnight, and people were getting tired.

"I have to get home," Jess slurred, "before I turn into a..." Her brow furrowed.

"Pumpkin?" Becker suggested helpfully. He was nearly finished with his fourth, where Jess had only made it halfway, and Matt had bowed out at three – he was driving home, after all – and maybe he seemed a bit softer around the edges, but not by much. Something told him he tended towards something a bit stronger than what they were drinking when he was on his own.

Jess giggled. "That's it," she said, pointing. She nearly jabbed Becker in the nose in the process, but he didn't seem to mind. "Before I turn into a pumpkin!"

"That'd be pretty cool, though, wouldn't it?" Connor joined in. He was a bit giddy himself, all toothy grins and squinted eyes. "Parker the Pumpkin. Has a nice ring to it."

Jess seemed to think about it a moment, but then shook her head. "I don't look good in orange." Then, as if struck by a stroke of genius, she turned to Becker. "You'd make a lovely pumpkin."

"You think so?" Clearly, Becker was just playing along. But it was interesting, seeing this side of him. It was like what he'd caught a glimpse of earlier that day. The smile when he'd shot down the Kaprosuchus, or the high-five when Connor got his job back. The chocolate had been a nice touch. Little things that Matt thought were more evident of the man than the soldier, a scale which had been severely weighted in favour of the latter the last few months. "Well, you know what I think?"

"What?" Jess asked.

Becker favoured her with a mild smile. "I think it might be time you went home." An assessment which he punctuated by very pointedly, yet subtly sliding her pint out from in front of her. He looked up at Abby, who was already nodding.

"I think that'll do me in, too," she was saying, nudging Connor who had taken to drawing shapes in the sweat rings on the table. "I'll get the two of them back."

"Are you sure?" Becker asked. He was already standing, a steadying hand on Jess's arm as she climbed her way out of the booth. He kept it there until Abby had taken over, nodding.

"I can manage."

"Be careful."

"Same goes for you two. And thanks for coming. This was nice."

"This was brilliant," Jess confirmed with all the enthusiasm of someone four pints in that probably should've stopped at three. She was still smiling as Connor steered her out of the pub while Abby settled up.

Beside Matt, Becker was already sitting back down.

"You're not going?" Matt asked.

Becker shook his head. "I'll stay a bit longer." He didn't say he wasn't drunk enough yet, but the message was implied.

"Well then, in that case." Matt flagged down Perky's replacement – Perky's shift ended about an hour ago, as told by her less-than-subtle announcement to Becker a few minutes before – and ordered two domestic porters. He wasn't much of a drinker himself, but Connor had asked earlier what his usual was, and he'd mentioned a few. That was just the one that sounded best to Matt.

When the server disappeared, Matt turned back to see Becker looking at him with an arched brow.

"What?"

"You don't have to buy my drink," Becker said.

"I know. Consider it a 'thank you' for saving my arse from that Kaprosuchus today."

"I was just doing my job."

"And I was just thanking you for a job well-done," he said. "If it bothers you so much, you can buy the next round."

Becker's eyebrow arched a bit higher. "The next round?" he asked as their beers appeared in front of them.

In response, Matt just shrugged. "I've got no place to be in the morning," he said, and took a sip. He hummed. "Not bad." Seemed Becker really did know what was good. "So, other than uncanny timing and good tastes in beer, you have any other talents I should know about? As your team leader, I mean. That gymnastics bit coming down off the crane was good. Done your time on the pommel horse?"

Becker chuckled and took a sip of his own beer. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

"Could it be the captain's got some skeletons in his closet? Or a spandex unitard, maybe?"

"I should've left you to the dinosaur."

"But then you'd be drinking alone," Matt said, and though the smile remained on his face, he took on a note of seriousness when he added, "And I think you've done enough of that, mate."

It was a relief when Becker didn't immediately shut down the second the conversation ventured even remotely near a genuine subject. He actually seemed to hear Matt, to listen, to process, and Matt watched it sink in. For a moment, it felt like he was really seeing him and being seen for the first time, daft as it sounded.

Then, quick as it came, the moment passed, and Becker was leaning back on the booth, a smirk curling his lips. "On second thought," he said, "I think a Kaprosuchus is worth two rounds."


End file.
